


Long Away

by BrianMaysLegs



Category: Queen (Band)
Genre: Eventual Romance and Smut, Fae!Brian, Freddie and Roger save the day, John and Brian are too precious for this world, M/M, Mary 'owns' Brian, Mythical creatures have been enslaved, Paul 'owns' John, Poor John and Brian are treated really badly, angel!John, society sucks, they are things to toy with, they aren't viewed as people, they're trained to serve and pleasure
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-04
Updated: 2019-10-28
Packaged: 2020-10-07 00:15:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 7
Words: 7,453
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20515871
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BrianMaysLegs/pseuds/BrianMaysLegs
Summary: In a world where mythical creatures have been enslaved, trained to serve and pleasure, they are viewed as less than human. When two of Freddie and Roger's friends get their own 'pets' they are horrified to find a person behind them, to watch them be horribly mistreated. They vow to each other that they'll save these two, do what they can for others when they find themselves in an up-and-coming band. With an Angel and a Fae by their side they hope to show that these wonderful creatures are not only people, but deserve to be treated as such.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Fly Away, Fly Away, Far Away](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19222567) by [QueenOfAllCorgis](https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenOfAllCorgis/pseuds/QueenOfAllCorgis). 

> Welcome to a new series! Like I don't have enough. I've been inspired by fics with the theme of having a race lesser than others for some reason so I thought I'd try my hand at one of my own. In this fic there's all sorts of mythical creatures, but the main two being Angels (John) and Fae (Brian). I thought it'd be interesting to take Roger out from under the light that he seems to be put under in fics. I thought John would be the perfect Angel, all pure and innocent, and Brian a Fae with his love for nature and animals. Enjoy! I'd love to here what you all think!

Roger didn’t consider Paul a ‘friend’ persay. He was more of work-mate that he got stuck with more often than he’d like. Paul was annoying, abrasive and horribly rude but Roger couldn’t find the heart to tell him to fuck off given he was the only person Paul ever hung out with.

Freddie liked Mary, he wouldn’t admit it to anyone, but he probably had a crush on her, too. In his eyes she was kind, lovely and beautiful. Others apparently didn’t have the same opinion, but Freddie didn’t care. He knew that Roger only put up with her, but Freddie felt the same about Paul, so they were even.

It wasn’t until they seemingly coordinated the ‘buying’ of ‘pets’ that got the two of them concerned. They new about their opinions on Mythical Creatures, but being faced with it was another story.

It was Paul first. He called Roger, too excited for anything sane, and begged him to come over, to see his new toy. Roger was confused but tentatively went anyway. He knocked on the door, waited. The door swung open to a beaming Paul.

“Roger! You’re here! Come in, come in!” Paul said practically bouncing, he turned, frowned, “John! Get over here I told you already!”

John? Who was John? Roger was confused, but then suddenly enthralled as an Angel made it’s way into the room, shuffling on it’s knees, head bowed and wings drooped. It wore a simple shirt and pants, and shuffled to a stop at Paul’s feet.

“What do you have to say for yourself?” Paul asked the Angel, pulling it’s head up to look at him.

“Sorry Master,” The Angel said softly, eyes moist.

Roger’s fascination turned to horror as the Angel, John, let his eyes roll towards him, and what Roger saw in them was utter sadness and intense pleading. John seemed young, barely an adult, couldn’t be older than 20, with his soft face and long wavy hair. Roger was taken aback at how _human _he looked. It was preached left and right that these… creatures weren’t human, but the gaze that John held now was full of emotion and begging, all human emotions.

“Isn’t it beautiful? Paul cooed, releasing John’s hair, leaving his head to hang, “Got a nice price for it, too, it’s young, inexperienced, but I’ll teach it the ways.”

Roger looked up at Paul and was disgusted at the proud smile on his face, “How old?” Roger found himself asking.

“John? Oh, he’s only 19. Nice and young, untainted, beautiful,” Paul said, stroking John’s cheek, “You want to touch?”

Roger stared for a moment, unsure of what Paul meant by touch.

“The wings, Roger, do you want to touch? Although, if you’re interested I might let you have him for a night,” Paul said with a wink.

Roger watched John shudder and felt sick, “No, no thank you, I’m fine.”

Paul shrugged, “Your loss, it’s wings are quite the toy,” he said, pulling one of the wings from the ball John seemed to be trying to curl himself into open with enough force to make John wince.

Roger had to admit that John’s wings were quite stunning; white with flecks of gold, but he wouldn’t give Paul the pleasure, didn’t want to risk John being uncomfortable. 

Paul dropped the wing, having finished his inspection, “Go and make us some snacks. Don’t even think about trying to sneak something in! I’ll know!”

“Of course Master,” John said flatly, standing and rushing off into the kitchen.

Paul turned to Roger, “It’s on a very strict diet, wouldn’t want it losing its wonderful figure.”

Roger frowned, it sounded like Paul was starving the poor boy. And every time Paul called John an ‘it’ it cause an uncomfortable feeling in Roger’s chest.

“Sit! Sit,” Paul motioned to his couch, making his way over there himself.

Roger sat uncomfortably, not sure what to do, whether he should call Paul out on his behaviour towards John, that he was making him uncomfortable, or whether to just leave it. He knew that in the eyes of the law, and in society, the way that Paul was treating John was fine, acceptable, legal. He can get away with a lot worse.

John rushed back into the lounge with a platter of snacks. Various crackers and cheeses with cold meats. He knelt at Pauls feet and presented him the platter. Paul took it, examined it, and then slapped John across the face. Roger jumped at the sound, watching John fall to the floor, his wings spreading in an attempt to right himself.

“There’s no salami you stupid bird!” Paul growled down at where John was sprawled on the floor, hand shaking near his abused cheek.

“I—so sorry Master I’ll get some salami right away,” John said quietly before rushing off to the kitchen again.

Paul shook his head, watching the Angel leave, “I swear if that kid doesn’t learn soon it’s gonna get kicked out. No wonder it was so cheap, it’s poorly trained.”

Roger was stared, horrified, at John rushing to chop up salami. Paul had hit him simply for forgetting salami. Imagine what else he does to the poor boy. Roger vaguely heard what Paul said, turned to him, “Well,” He said, feeling sick at what he was about to say, “If you ever do get sick of him, I’d be happy to take him off your hands.”

Paul raised an eyebrow, “You? Wouldn’t have seen you as the type. You’d take a troublesome Angel off me, a useless toy?”

Roger felt like he might vomit, “I would.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Now for Brian and Freddie! Two chapters in one day?! What is this?! I'm on a roll! There might even be another! I know I made Mary a bit of a bitch but she's got the reputation sooooooooo.

Mary got her ‘pet’ a few days later. She called Freddie over the very same day, excited to show off her new possession. Freddie was excited, too, but in a different way. He had never seen a Mythical Creature in person and it made him intensely curious. He had heard that they were very beautiful, and Freddie always appreciated beauty.

Roger had seemed off for the past few days, doing a lot of research on Angels, Freddie found him once, doing exactly that, and peaked over his shoulder.

“Thinking of buying one, dear?” Freddie asked.

Roger jumped, startled, “Jesus Freddie! Don’t sneak up on me like that!” He turned, glared at Freddie, “And no, I’m not. Paul got an Angel recently and he’s treating him horribly, I don’t like it and I want to help the poor thing.”

Freddie raised an eyebrow, “They’re not people, Rog.”

That was not the right thing to say, “But they are, Freddie! You should’ve seen him! He had thoughts, feelings, he looked at me with so much sorrow, begging me to help him. Those eyes… they haunt me. They’re people, Freddie, and they’re being treated like animals.”

Freddie was taken aback. It was rare that Roger felt as passionately on a topic as he did about this, “If it’s important to you, love, then I’ll do what I can. Funny you bring it up, actually, because Mary just called me all excited with her new toy.”

Roger balked, “She has one too?”

“Not an Angel, but a Mythical Creature, yes.”

“Do you know what race?”

“Fae I think she said.”

Roger paled, “Oh God I hope she’s better than Paul.”

“What does that mean, dear?” Freddie asked, hands on his hips, eyebrow raised.

“It _means_ that Paul is starving John, and Fae require not only food but frequent connections with nature and she could—”

“Mary’s not like Paul,” Freddie cut Roger off.

Roger sighed, “Let’s hope not.”

With that, Freddie left, but Roger’s words and warnings floated around his brain. He knocked on Mary’s door, and waited for her to open it. He was greeted with a beaming Mary, looking as beautiful as always.

“Freddie! Oh, come in, come in!” Mary greeted, moving aside to let Freddie in.

Freddie stepped inside and was greeted with the sight of a stunning, curly-haired man kneeling on the floor before him. He wore simple clothes, but they accentuated his tall and skinny form, even kneeling he was above Freddie’s waist. His curly hair hid his face, his head bowed, but Freddie itched to run his fingers through the soft-looking curls. Scattered throughout his curls was pieces of nature, branches, leaves and flowers. His hair seemed to shine and glitter like there were water drops covering each strand. Freddie was mesmerised by the beauty of this creature, and he hadn’t even seen his face.

Mary caught him staring and smiled, “Brian, love, show our new guest your face.”

The Fae, Brian, looked up at Mary, “Of course, Mistress,” and then up at Freddie.

Brian’s eyes were a wonderful hazel, deep and glittery. His face was long and thin, with high cheek bones and a soft structure. He was absolutely stunning. Freddie wanted to paint him, to immortalise the beauty. But then Freddie really looked into his eyes, and he found emotions. He found sorrow, pleading, and yet… resignation. There were actual human emotions and that scared him for some reason.

“It’s it stunning?” Mary asked.

‘It’. Freddie shuddered. It had started off so well, and now it was starting to go down hill. Freddie forced himself to smile, “Yes, he is.”

Mary gave him a strange look at saying ‘he’ but quickly brushed it off. She ran her fingers through Brian’s hair; it was soft, almost a loving gesture but Freddie caught how Brian tensed up and looked slightly horrified at the gesture. Freddie was starting to realise that maybe Mary and Paul weren’t too different after all, not when it came to the treatment of Mythical Creatures, who weren’t considered to be people.

Brian shivered slightly when Mary let go, and looked up at Freddie with fear shining in his eyes. Freddie knew that that look would haunt his dreams, just like Roger said.

Mary smiled softly, “You really seem to like it, Freddie. Maybe I’ll lend it to you for a night,” She said with a wink.

Freddie immediately paled, and watched as Brian did the same, looking up wide-eyed in fear.

But then something in his head clicked, “Mary, dear, can I ask you a favour?”

“Of course, Freddie, what is it?”

“Can I borrow Brian here tonight by any chance?”

Brian seemed to lose the last shred of hope in his eyes. He sighed, looked back at the floor.

“Tonight?” Mary asked, “But it’s still untrained, unruly, do you want to deal with that?”

“I have a feeling that won’t be a problem, dear,” Freddie said without his normal flamboyance, “May I?”

Mary looked at him, slightly shocked, “Of course you can, Freddie, just bring it back tomorrow. Don’t be afraid to order it around and discipline it, either, it needs to learn.” Mary stood closer to Brian, pulled his hair so he looked at him, “Brian, dear, you’re going to go with Freddie tonight, and you’re going to do everything he asks of you, okay?”

“Yes, Mistress.”

“Good,” She turned to Freddie, “Have fun!”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brian's POV! Poor baby. John is next!

Brian had hoped, and that was the problem right there; he had hoped. As soon as this ‘Freddie’ walked in and saw him, he could tell that he wasn’t like his Mistress, that he was too kind to mistreat him. This was further strengthened by his responses and reactions to his Mistresses comments and abuse, no matter how tame it was. But as soon as his Mistress offered Brian to Freddie, and Freddie agreed, Brian felt just as hopeless as before, if not more so, in knowing that no one cares about him or his feelings, he is but a toy, a play thing to them.

And he was dreading tonight, having to perform whatever sexual acts Freddie wanted him to. He had never done anything with a man, he’d barely done anything with a woman. Sure, he’d been trained to, but that was a different environment with clear lines and punishments, here he didn’t know what was going to happen.

He stood at his Mistresses request and she clipped his leash onto his collar, handed the end to Freddie. They said their goodbyes, and Brian ignored the innuendos that his Mistress said to Freddie, _to Sir, _a traitorous part of his mind supplied.

No, his mind was his safe haven, the only place where he could be himself and not worry about punishments. He knew the truth, so did the others like him, and he hoped someday a Human would see it, free his kind from this horrible slavery.

He followed Freddie out, head hung, long legs carrying him easily. He tried to ignore his hunger, of both kinds. It had only been a day with his Mistress but he was put through processing for a few days before hand, where he was barely fed, and had no connection to nature. This walk was teasing him, giving him a taste of what he needed but couldn’t get. He was almost relieved when he got to Freddie’s flat, away from the stares and the smell of flora.

Freddie led him into his flat and Brian immediately dropped to his knees, looking at the floor, waiting for a command.

“Oh, honey,” Freddie cooed, dropping to his knees too, stroking Brian’s cheek.

Brian was confused. He looked up to see Freddie’s eyes full of compassion and sympathy, but he was hear to pleasure him.

“You don’t have to worry about that bullshit here, not with me. I see you, love, you just be you.”

Brian stared blankly, was this a trick? Did his Mistress put Freddie up to this? Or was he actually saying that he saw that Brian was a person, not a thing?

“Freddie, who are you talking to?” A blonde man walked into the room, saw Brian and froze, “Is that--?”

“This is Brian, dear, Mary’s new Fae. She let me borrow him for the night under pretences I’d rather not discuss.”

The man stared, and Brian couldn’t help but stare back. He was stunning, with his long blonde hair and beautifully sculptured face. He looked almost girlish, but managed the line fabulously.

“So you see what I mean then!”

“Yes, dear, please don’t do this now, not with Brian present.”

The man made his way over to them, and dropped to his knees beside Freddie, “Brian was it? I’m Roger.”

“Hello, Sir,” Brian said softly.

Roger frowned, “You don’t need to do any of that here, not with us. We know you’re a person, Brian, please don’t feel like we’re going to make you serve us.”

Brian looked between them, unsure. They seemed so sincere, but he’s had others appear to be and then show him otherwise.

“I promise we’re not trying to trick you or anything, dear,” Freddie promised, moving a stray curl from Brian’s face, “Anything that happens in this flat in known only by us, we won’t peep anything to Mary, only that you did as you were asked.”

Brian felt like he could cry. These two men, who barely knew him, were treating him better than anyone else in the world ever had. They saw that he was a person, that he wasn’t just a thing, and was offering him limited freedom with them.

“Oh, love, don’t cry.”

Brian hadn’t realised he was crying until Freddie pulled him to his chest, rocking them gently. After a while Freddie pulled back, “What would you like to do, love? Play a game, read a book? Just lounge around? Do you want anything to eat?”

That perked Brian’s interest, and Roger seemed to notice.

“Don’t tell me Mary’s been starving you, too,” Roger swore softly.

Brian looked at him, “My Mistress knows what’s best.”

“Oh, cut the bullshit, we know what they can get away with, we know that isn’t true. Has she been starving you?”

Brian was shocked at the sincerity of Roger’s concern, but he nodded.

“Food, nature or both?”

“Y—you know about that?” Brian asked, the first sentence out of his mouth in as long as he could remember that wasn’t scripted or rehearsed.

Roger’s face softened, “I did some research. A friend of mine recently got an Angel, and he’s been treating him horribly, and I want to give him something more, so I did some research and came across your kind, the Faes, and how you need contact with nature. We can go for a walk in the park if you want, Brian.”

“I—if _I _want?” Brian asked softly, “N—no one has ever asked me what _I_ want.”

Freddie’s eyes glistened with moisture, “Oh, honey. We’re going to order any food you want and then go for a lovely stroll in the park, maybe stay after dark to look at the stars, would you like that?”

“The stars? I like the stars.” Brian would often look up at the stars at night, and imagine he was far away from where he was, they fascinated him.

“Wonderful dear, then it’s a plan! Maybe I can sneak a book on Astronomy into Mary’s for you to read.”

Brian blushed and looked away, ashamed, “I can’t read.”

“What?” They all but shrieked.

“I was never taught to read, or to write, it wasn’t a required skill in serving our Masters.”

“That’s horrible.”

“We’ll teach you. I don’t care how long it takes; we’ll teach you,” Roger promised, “We’ll try our hardest to free you from Mary, and you can live with us; a fee man.”

Brian looked up, smiled, loved the smile he got in return, “Thank you S—Roger,” He corrected himself, and Roger’s smile simply got wider.

Brian ate more food in that day then we had over the course of the past few weeks, He has a lovely stroll in the park with the two of them, not even caring about the leash that connected them. And as the sun went down, they found a nice spot to sit, had a nice picnic and then laid down and looked up at the stars. Brian had a taste of freedom, and he wasn’t sure if he ever wanted to go back.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John's turn! It ended up more inner thoughts than i had planned, but sometimes stories write me other than the other way around, so this is what came out! I have a plan for John's arc, but I'm still umming and arring about Brian's, so if anyone has ideas I'm all ears! I had planned to reveal John's this chapter, but you'll find out next chapter instead. Patients my loves. Enjoy!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This has gotten such a positive response! I can't believe it! Thank you all so much! I love hearing from you, all thoughts and comments help me with story arcs and ideas. Can't wait to hear them!

John didn’t know what he had expected, but this wasn’t it. He hated it here. He thought that, maybe, because he was supposedly a ‘prized possession’ that he would be treated with some kind of reverence, some kind of care.

He was horribly wrong on that front.

He was treated horribly, hit and pushed around at the slightest thing wrong. He was forced to sleep on the floor, to kneel beside his Master more often than not, and wait on his every whim.

Every whim.

John was a shy man, young and inexperienced. His only sexual experiences have been forced and horrible. He wanted to die; he would rather die than get violated like that again, but there was no way he could feasibly do it. He was being watched at all times, being treated like a child who wasn’t allowed to touch anything that wasn’t his; which was everything.

So he simply fell into himself, hid away in his mind and tried not to let anyone into his safe haven. He put on an act, put on a mask of indifference when he was slowly dying inside.

His master had woken him up, demanded a blow job. John had never given one before coming here, but he liked to think that he was a quick learner. So he fell into his safe haven, pretended he wasn’t sucking the dick of the person he most despised, pretended his hair wasn’t being pulled harshly, that his feathers weren’t being broken in his horrible grip, that he wasn’t the cause to those horrible sounds. He felt tears running down his cheek, his ability to breathe becoming laboured, but he knew that if he tried to stop, if he spoke up, he’d have to endure much worse.

He was shocked out of his mind at the worst point, at the feeling pf cum shooting down his throat. He hated the taste, the feeling, how humiliated it made him feel; but that was the point wasn’t it? He was less than human, they wanted to make sure he knew that.

Paul left then, to get ready or whatever he did in the morning, and John was alone. Alone in a small, dark room with tears down his face, his wing, scalp and throat hurting and the horrible taste of cum on his tongue. He knew he wouldn’t be alone for long, soon Paul would come back and force him to do each and every thing he could think of. He savoured his time alone, his time in the quiet with no one but himself, even if he was wildly uncomfortable on the floor.

He would take what he could get.

Paul came back some time later, John had lost track. He smiled down at John, and John looked at the floor to avoid that horrible gaze.

“Today’s your lucky day,” Paul said.

John looked up, confused, “Master?”

“I need to go somewhere, somewhere that you can’t come, so you get to stay with Roger. You remember Roger don’t you?”

John nodded, he remembered the blonde, how beautiful he was, how he seemed horrified at how John was being treated. But then he said he’d offer to take John off of Paul’s hands, and he didn’t know how he felt about that. And yet, he felt safer in the idea that he’d be with Roger than with Paul.

“I do, Master,” John said.

“Good. You have to do all he asks, you understand?”

“Yes, Master.”

“Good. Get ready, then, we’re off soon.”

John stood, went over to get changed as Paul left. His hands shook, still unsure of how to feel about today. He felt relieved that he wouldn’t be with Paul for most of the day, but there’s always the possibility that Roger would be worse. But from what he saw the first time they met, Roger seemed appalled by Paul’s behaviour, so maybe he’ll be friendly? Maybe he saw the person behind the stories?

No, John couldn’t hope. Hope was a horrible thing when broken. He couldn’t afford to break any more.

John thoughtlessly followed Paul through the streets, phased out to the world as he tended to be in times like this. He barely noted where he was going, only that he was going somewhere. Until suddenly, he was at a building and Paul was knocking on a door, and someone was answering. It was Roger, looking tired and confused.

“Paul?” He asked.

“You’re taking John for the day, remember?” Paul said with a raised eyebrow.

Roger perked up immediately, “Oh yeah! Sorry just forgot.”

Paul laughed, “Don’t worry about it, it won’t need much, it’ll be like he’s not there… unless you want him to be,” Paul said with a wink and John shuddered.

Roger looked slightly horrified at the suggestion, “Yeah, okay… well, you have, and I’ll take care of him.”

“Oh, I’m sure you will,” Paul said, handing Roger John’s leash, “Enjoy!” He exclaimed, and left.

John looked up at Roger, nervous. He didn’t know where he stood with this new man, so he did as he was trained, “Hello, Sir.”

Roger’s face softened, and he unhooked John’s leash, led him inside, “You don’t need to do any of that here, John.”

John turned, eyes wide, “Pardon?”

“I know you’re a person, you don’t have to act like I’m better than you, because I’m not.”

“A-are you trying to trick me?” John asked softly. He’d heard of it; Humans that acted like they were equals with his kind and then punished them incredibly harshly when they started to believe them.

“Trick you? God, no, John, no.”

John was sceptical.

“I understand that you’ll need time to believe that, that I need to prove to you that I mean you no harm, but today you are free, no rules, no punishments. Whatever you want, whatever you need, just ask,”

As if on cue, John’s stomach growled. He’d barely eaten all week, he looked up at Roger nervously, “Could I have some food Sir?”

Roger nodded, “Of course you can, you can call me Roger, I promise it’s okay,” And with that Roger rushed off into the kitchen, leaving John shocked and confused in the lounge.

Maybe he did have a chance at happiness after all.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The second part of John's little adventure! This is my plan to get him out of Paul's clutches! Still working on Brian's. I came up with the most horrible idea for John's story about an hour ago and I hate it but it really fits so sorry in advance for that when it comes. Hope you enjoy!

Roger wasn’t the best cook in the world, but he didn’t imagine that John would be overly fussy. A sandwich, no matter how shitty, was still food. He made the food quickly, making sure to pile it with anything appealing he could find, from meats to vegetable, for maximum benefit to the Angel. He put it on a plate, and then brought it back out to John.

John was standing exactly where Roger left him, unsure what to do with himself and noticeably awkward. His wings were pulled in tight to his body, and he was hunched in on himself to make himself look smaller. He looked up at Roger with wide, cautious eyes, and then down at the plate of food. Roger noticed the twitch of John’s hand, reaching out to it, before he corrected himself.

“It’s for you, please, have it,” Roger said, holding the plate out to John.

John looked at Roger, unsure, for a few moments, before tentatively reaching for the plate. When Roger didn’t make a move to stop him, John took the plate and then looked at the sandwich like it was a huge mystery to him.

“I didn’t poison it or anything, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

John looked up, “That’s exactly what someone who poisoned it would say.”

Roger was surprised at first, that John had spoken to him, and in such a way that was usually frowned upon by his kind. But then he realised what he had said, and laughed.

“I suppose that’s true,” Roger chuckled, “But I really didn’t.”

John looked at the sandwich for a moment longer before lifting up one half and taking a small, cautious bite from it. He chewed, a look of concentration on his face, before greedily scoffing down the rest.

“Wow! Wow, no need to scoff it, little guy, take your time so you don’t choke; I can always make you another one.”

John looked up, eyes wide in shock, but he nodded and took his time with the rest of the sandwich. Roger understood why he was eating it so quickly, it must be so rare that he got food and was afraid it would be taken from him of something, but he didn’t want John to be sick.

When John had finished, he looked down at the plate and muttered, “Thank you, Sir.”

“You’re very welcome, John. Would you like some more?”

“Not right now, thank you, Sir.”

Roger nodded, and went to take the plate from John, but he looked up, confused and… scared.

“I can wash it, Sir,” John promised.

“Don’t be ridiculous, I can wash it later, I’m not making you do anything you don’t want to.”

John let Roger take the plate and watched him take it to the kitchen and then come right back. Roger opened his mouth to say something, but the door swung open then with an exclamation of, “Roger, darling, I’m home! I know you missed me horribly, but it simply must be done and—oh, who’s this?”

John looked up at Freddie like a deer caught in headlights, but with a hint of admiration under his gaze. Freddie, on the other hand, wasn’t bothering to hide that he was admiring John in all his beauty.

“Fred,” Roger said, “This is John, Paul’s new ‘play thing’.” He said with exaggerated air quotes.

“Hello, John, dear,” Freddie smiled, “You really are stunning aren’t you?”

John blushed, looked at the floor, “Thank you, Sir.”

“Oh, nonsense, call me Freddie, you sweet little thing. Roger fed you I suppose?”

John nodded, “He did, Si—Freddie.”

Freddie beamed, a smile larger than Roger had seen in a long time, and he couldn’t help but smile too. “Wonderful, dear,” Freddie announced, “Well I’m sure he’s given you the ‘you’re a person and we don’t want to control you’ speech, so I won’t give it to you again—”

John rustled his wings at that, and a look of discomfort crossed his face, stopping Freddie in his tracks.

“Oh, love, are you hurt?” Freddie asked, stepping forward to help, hands out, but unsure how to help, whether to touch.

John stepped back from Freddie, a frightened expression crossing his face, “I’m fine,” He said, trying to wrap his wings around himself and wincing.

“You’re not fine, dear. Can we help? What’s wrong?”

John looked between Roger and Freddie for a moment and then sighed, defeated, “It’s my wing. I think—” He stopped, took a deep breath, looking at the floor, “I think I injured it last night when Master was—” This time he was cut off with a sob that wracked his body, and tears streamed down his face.

“Oh, love,” Freddie said, still unsure about whether he could touch, “Can I hug you?”

John looked up, unsure, but nodded and Freddie wrapped his arms around him gently, patted John’s hair, and John seemed to relax into it after a moment, sobbing onto Freddie’s shoulder.

“You don’t need to tell us what that _bastard Paul _was doing, love, just tell us how we can help,” Freddie said.

“I—I think it just needs preening,” John said softly.

“Preening?” Roger asked, “Like a bird?”

John looked up at him over Freddie’s shoulder and nodded, “I think that a few feathers are broken or out of place is all, but I can’t get to them by myself,” He said softly.

“I’ll be happy to preen you, love, just take me through what to do,” Freddie said happily, pulling John over to the couch to sit on a pillow in front of him.

Roger watched, amazed as John quietly told Freddie how to preen his wings and as Freddie followed every instruction to the letter, even asking clarification where needed, to make sure John felt safe and comfortable. A part of Roger wondered why Freddie never did this when Roger asked him to do things, but he knew why. He could see it in his eyes that Freddie had already fallen for the Angel, and would do anything in his power to make him happy.

Then Roger had a thought.

“John?” Roger asked.

John looked up from where he had almost dozed off at Freddie’s ministrations, “Yes Sir?”

“Do you like it at home, with Paul?”

A look of horror crossed John’s eyes and he shook his head vigorously.

“Do you like it here with us?”

“So far I love it here, Sir.”

Roger smiled, “What if I told you I had an idea to get you out of there, out of Paul’s grasp, and over here with us?”

“Then I would be incredibly happy, Sir. What would I need to do?”

Roger knelt down, so he was in front of John, held his hands, “Do you remember when we first met, and Paul was saying how you were untrained?”

John, unsure and confused, nodded.

“And how I said I’d take you if you got too unruly?”

“I do, Sir.”

“Well, maybe, just maybe, if you act out enough, refuse to follow enough orders, Paul will want to get rid of you.”

John looked horrified.

“I know that will be hard, that he’ll hurt and punish you, and it’s your choice, but then you’d be able to live here, with us, where you’d never get punished again, never have to do anything against your will. What do you say?”

John’s eyes hardened, and he looked right into Roger’s eyes, “I say bring it on.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This just kinda happened... Brian's free, but at what cost?

Roger couldn’t get Brian out of his mind; every second of every day he was thinking about him, about whether Mary was as good as she seemed, about how intelligent he was, about how he would love to save him, about how to do that.

Maybe Mary would give Brian to Freddie if Freddie hinted hard enough. Maybe she would get rid of him if he, too, got too unruly. Maybe—

Roger’s thoughts were interrupted by Freddie bounding into the room, “Roger, darling, you won’t believe it!”

Roger looked up, saw that Fred was holding back tears, was suddenly concerned, “What is it, Fred?”

“It’s Mary! She’s—” Freddie sobbed, “It’s Brian.”

Roger stood, face hard, “What about Brian?”

Freddie shook his head, paused for a moment, “She found out that we fed him, took him for a walk, I don’t know how, but she thinks we were trying to go behind her back to damage her authority but instead of taking it out on us she—”

“She punished Brian,” Roger said softly.

Freddie nodded, tears falling. “Oh, Roger, from what she told me, it isn’t good.”

“I knew she wasn’t as good as she seemed,” Roger bit out, “She was putting on an act for us.” He stepped forward, hugged Freddie, “So what do we do?”

Freddie sobbed again, “It sounds like she won’t keep him much longer; not with how ‘damaged’ he is—” Freddie’s voice broke, “She’s thinking of just throwing him onto the streets, knowing he won’t fetch much—”

“Oh God,” Roger muttered, tightening his arms around Freddie, “We have to find him, persuade Mary to give him to us.”

Freddie nodded vigorously, “I thought I knew her, I thought she’d be good to him—”

“It’s okay, Fred, you couldn’t have known. What matters now is Brian.”

“Of course,” Freddie said, pulling back, eyes hard and jaw set, “Let’s go save him.”

Roger was absolutely fuming by the time they got to Mary’s house. Once Freddie had calmed down, he told Roger the damage, about what happened, and Roger could almost see the state Brian was in from Freddie’s description, and he didn’t have a good feeling about any of this. If Mary was angry enough at the situation to hurt Brian the way she did, what was stopping her from doing the same to them?

Freddie knocked on the door, jaw set and determined. They waited for a moment before Mary opened the door, and her face immediately dropped.

“Oh,” She said, “It’s you.”

“Mary, darling,” Freddie tried.

“Don’t ‘darling’ me, Freddie, I see through your bullshit. Ever since I got that Fae you’ve only cared about it, it’s always ‘how’s Brian?’ ‘Can I see Brian?’ ‘Can we borrow Brian?’ and I’m fucking sick of it! It’s just a toy, a pet, why do you care about it so much anyway?”

“Because he’s not just a toy or a pet!” Roger exploded, “He’s a person, with thoughts and feelings, and you’re mistreating him!”

Mary stared for a moment, laughed, “If you really think that, then I pity you. It’s a dumb as a bag of bricks, can barely follow orders properly. Sometimes I find it staring out the window like a lost puppy, like it thinks it can get out. I was going to throw it out like the trash it is, but you know what? You can have it! Then maybe you’ll realise you’re wrong! You can put in all the effort to heal it and then watch it die, or regret taking it in and throw it out like it deserves.” Mary stormed off inside, “Wait there.”

Freddie and Roger turned to each other.

“Well one the bright side, she’s giving him to us,” Roger said softly.

“I’m not sure if we can save him, by what Mary’s said he’s in a pretty bad state,” Freddie replied sadly.

“Let’s not think about that now,” Roger shook his head.

Mary reappeared, dragging Brian behind her by his good arm. Roger and Freddie paled at the sight of him, on arm dislocated and broken, a bone sticking out of his skin, as it hung uselessly by his side. He was pale, clammy, his eyes unfocused and wondering.

“Oh God,” Roger whispered.

Mary threw Brian at them, “There! Have it! It’s delusional anyway, not much use at it is. Wouldn’t be surprised if it was dying. Good luck saving it. I never want to see it, or you again. Goodbye,” Mary stated, slamming the door in their faces.

Roger caught Brian, wincing at the pained moan that followed. He brushed the sweaty curls from Brian’s face, cupped his cheek.

“Brian, it’s Roger, do you remember me?”

Brian looked up, but his eyes saw nothing. He stared for a moment before his eyes closed and he went limp in Roger’s arms.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I know it's been so long!! Sorry I left you all on such a horrible cliff-hanger, i've been meaning to write this for ages but have only now gotten around to it. Hopefully I'll be writing a lot more soon!
> 
> Next chapter: Back to John and his delicate situation!

Brian didn’t know how it slipped, he guessed that he had been good enough to warrant some stargazing, and mentioned that ‘Sir Mercury and Sir Taylor’ had taken him before. But he didn’t expect the look of pure fury on his Mistress, he didn’t expect her to go into a fit of rage, screaming and hitting him, dragging him across the room and throwing him down the stairs. He could swear that he heard something crack, and felt the explosion of pain, but just as he let out a cry of pain, he felt his throat forcefully close, his breathing cut off. He looked up to see the face of his Mistress, eyes burning with anger, as she strangled him. He began to struggle, clawing at her arms, her hands, but she threw him against the wall. Again and again until he stopped fighting. His arm was caught at an odd angle and he felt his shoulder pop out of joint. With another scream, he felt himself slip into blackness.

He woke up chained to the radiator, one arm hung uselessly by his side, broken and dislocated at his shoulder, a piece of bone sticking through the skin of his lower arm. Seeing it made a wave of nausea hit him, and it drew his attention to how sickly his felt, how pale his skin was and how clammy he was.

Jesus was had his Mistress done to him?

His head ached, his whole body ached. His eyesight was fuzzy, his thoughts jumbled. He heard yelling, voices he recognised but couldn’t place. As he regained his focus, he realised just how much pain he was in. Any tiny little movement that jarred his arm sent agonising pain through him. He let out a silent scream, breathless and unable to make much of any noise. His throat hurt, but not in the way it was when he was sick, and for a moment he was confused, but then it all came back to him; what his mistress—no, Mary, she didn’t control him anymore—had done to him. Why his arm was broken, dislocated, why his throat hurt.

A tear ran down his cheek, but his eyes hardened, his jaw set in determination. He’s run away if he had to, force Mary to give him up. He wouldn’t live like this anymore.

If he lived, he realised.

The extent of his injuries were unknown to him, but what he could see scared him. He had a protruding bone, a high risk of infection, of losing functionality.

But before he could think any further, Mary burst into the room, a dark look on her face.

“Get up you useless thing,” She demanded, untying him.

Brian tried to get to his feet, but he began to feel dizzy, weak, and started to tilt. Mary swore but helped Brian to stand, all but dragged him out into the front room. He more he moved, the fuzzier everything got, the blurrier his mind. He heard voices, was pushed into someone. He heard his name being called, looked up to see piercing blue eyes. He knew those eyes from somewhere, but before he could figure it out, the darkness enveloped him.

He woke with a start in an unknown place. Frightened, he sat up, looked around, and when he found two people watching over him, he struggled to get away, only for it to result in great pain.

“Brian, love, it’s just us, please do stay still,” A familiar voice asked.

Brian’s brain focused on the men’s faces, realised that he recognised them. Roger and Freddie, the two men who were so kind to him, who saw him as a person.

“Where am I?” Brian asked, voice gruff, looking around.

“You’re home, dear,” Freddie smiled, kneeling before him.

Brian jolted at the mention of ‘home’.

“Oh, no, dear, not Mary’s, you’re at Roger’s and my house; you’re new home.”

“My… new home?” Brian asked. He felt worried; did these men now own him? If so, why was he worried; they were nice, but then again, many are before they own him. He’s seen this before.

“Yes, dear! Legally, we own you now, but please don’t panic! We don’t see it that way, I promise you; to use, you’re a free man.”

Brian listened, tried not to panic, but as expected it didn’t work completely. He felt the tendrils of fear creep in, grab him, but he tried not to let it control him. These men had done nothing but help him up until now, but the many years of mistreatment and abuse has done much to ruin his trust for people.

Brian nodded, “What happened?”

“Mary, she hurt you pretty bad, and was going to throw you onto the streets to die, but we took you in instead.”

Brian started to remember. That explained why his voice sounded so gruff, why his arm ached so badly. He pulled together the strength to look at his arm, afraid of what he would find, but instead he found it covered in bandages, set back in place in both places.

“Wh—what happened to my arm? It’s fixed!” Brian looked back up at Freddie, hope and gratefulness in his eyes.

Freddie chuckled, “Roger fixed it, dear, set it back in place. He studied medicine, surprisingly enough. Thankfully, you were unconscious the whole time, dear, I can’t imagine the pain it would’ve caused you.”

Brian felt tears coming to his eyes, “Thank you for your help, Sir,” Brian smiled.

Freddie smiled back, “Oh, love, you’re simply gorgeous when you smile, but you know you can call me Freddie.”

“Thank you… Freddie,” Brian repeated.

Freddie beamed, “Can I hug you, dear?”

Brian was shocked that Freddie asked; he was so used to orders. “O—Of course,” Brian smiled, returning the hug Freddie gave to him one armed, noticing how Freddie was being careful not to jostle his arm.

Brian didn’t realise he was crying until he felt the fabric of Freddie’s shirt starting to get wet. Freddie was rubbing his back, “There, there, love, you’re safe now, you will never get hurt again, not under our watch.”

“T—thank you,” Brian managed, “F—For everything. Thank you so much.”

“It’s our pleasure, dear. Roger’s even made up his room for you to stay until we figure something else out; he’ll stay in my room until then to give you some privacy. Do you want to start learning how to read tomorrow, dear? Roger’s written up a plan for you and everything! He’s so excited that you’re here, he’s just gone to get some food and new plants for the apartment for you.”

Brian lent back, looked into Freddie’s eyes for any signs that he was lying, that this was all a trick and Mary had put them up to this the whole time to finally break his spirit, but Freddie simply stared back, waiting for Brian to respond with nothing but kindness and worry in his eyes.

“I—” Brian swallowed, “I can’t accept all that.”

“Oh, don’t be ridiculous, dear, of course you can. You’re apart of our little family now, you’re one of us. Anything you need or want, we’ll get. We just want you to feel comfortable here, darling, so we’re giving you your own space until you settle in. Stay in there as long or as little as you want, we won’t disturb you. And if we do anything you don’t like, just tell us, okay?”

Brian’s mind was whirring, trying to comprehend what was happening. He had free will. He had two people who saw him as a person, who cared for him, who were giving him independence, his own space. He had a _room. _He had food! Roger was getting him plants to feel more connected with nature! He was going to learn how to read!

He started crying again.

“Thank you so, so much,” He sobbed, throwing his good arm around Freddie again.

All he could hope for now is that his past didn’t come to haunt him in his new future.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spoiler Alert: It does. Poor Babu will need to adjust, and it will happen slowly, but there will be sadness along the way (sprinkled in between with some wholesomeness of course)


End file.
